


Whatever comes through that door

by ayumie



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M, S05E07 coda, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayumie/pseuds/ayumie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's lovelife is a mess. Whoever could possibly relate? One thing leads to another...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever comes through that door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HotaruMuraki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotaruMuraki/gifts).



It was after midnight when Nick showed up on Renard's doorstep, clearly antsy and somewhat worse for wear.

„Can I come in? I need to talk – about Juliette. About Adalind. The others wouldn't understand.“

The others hadn't been involved with both women. Renard was very much aware that this wasn't a good idea, but he stepped aside anyway and led Nick into the kitchen.

“Can I offer you something? A beer?”

“You have anything stronger? It's been a rough week.”

Probably not a good idea, either. Renard retrieved two glasses and a bottle of 50 year old scotch he'd been saving for a special occasion. If it helped him through this night, it'd have served its purpose. At the first swallow, Nick's lips twitched, clearly suppressing a grimace. Well, it was an acquired taste. Renard relished the slow burn of liquor, waiting for the alcohol to calm his nerves.

“Juliette... she wasn't the same when I saw her the other day. It was like talking to a stranger. She said she remembers everything, but … even when she tried to kill me as a Hexenbiest it was better, because then at least she felt something. This … Eve doesn't even act like a person.”

“What happened to her?”

„Trouble said they brought her in when she was injured. She's been broken. Turned into a weapon.”

It hurt to even contemplate just how such a thing might be accomplished. Renard knew that his own weakness for Juliette was mostly magic-induced, so how much worse must this be for Nick?

“I can't speak for Eve, but Juliette, the real Juliette, loved you very much. She fought for you when we were under that spell. She wouldn't have resisted, otherwise. Whatever happened to her since then wasn't anyone's fault. It's not much of a consolation, but sometimes bad things just happen.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Nick poured himself another drink.

“Look, Nick, I never really apologized to you, did I? I've made a lot of mistakes handling our … situation. I'm sorry. But please believe me, that I would have spared you this, if I could have. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

When Nick looked up, his eyes were dark, inscrutable. This was new, too, a mark of how much he had changed over the past months. Renard had _always_ been able to read Nick.

“How do you know Meisner?”

“He's the one I hired to kill Eric. He was supposed to get you out of Europe.”

In the end, he had helped Adalind, instead.

“You had your brother killed for taking me.”

Nick was still looking at him strangely, studying his expression like he was trying to figure something out. Feigning nonchalance, Renard shrugged.

“I was running out of options.”

“Victor had you shot and lives.”

It wasn't anything he had ever put into context and, for a moment, Renard didn't know what to say. Nick took his glass from his hand and put it aside.

“Nick...”

“I should have killed him.”

This couldn't possibly be what it looked like.

„I kissed Adalind today. It wasn't what I wanted. Close, but not quite.“

“Nick, we really shouldn't be talking about this.”

Nick leaned forward and, slowly, deliberately, placed his hand onto Renard's thigh.

“We can't-”

Nick's mouth tasted of whiskey and grief and, for a moment, Renard was lost in sensations. Lips and tongue and teeth used in a collective assault, strong fingers digging into his leg, the scent of Nick's cologne _everywhere._ In the end, Renard did the only thing he could think of. He pulled away and let his Zauberbiest rise, a fierce snarl meant to deter. It didn't get him the reaction he had been expecting. Nick leaned forward, lips brushing against the Wesen-side of his face.

„How far down does it go?“

At his utter shock, Nick laughed, a harsh, brittle sound.

“Juliette tried that once. Doesn't work any more. Please, Sean, I'm tired of being reasonable. You want it and I need … something tonight that isn't violence. I can't- It's too much!”

It was the way Nick said his name, that did it. Renard surged forward, cupping Nick's nape, and this time the kiss was even better. He hadn't ever let himself think about this, had denied even his dreams, and the reality of that body against his was nothing short of intoxicating. Nick was tugging at his clothes, hands hitching up his shirt to dig blunt nails into the small of his back. A low, guttural sound escaped Renard's throat and he briefly closed his eyes. It was the most natural thing in the world to press forward until Nick was half-sitting on top of the kitchen counter, legs spread invitingly, jeans very obviously even tighter than usual. Renard left that last inch of space between them.

“This is what you want?”

Tongue darting out to lick swollen lips, Nick nodded.

“Yes.”

So be it, then. Wasting no more time, Renard reached down and undid Nick's pants. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed, irrefutable proof that this was really happening. Renard knelt and brushed his thumb over the head, holding the other man's eyes as he did so. Nick moaned harshly and gripped the edge of the counter, but he made no move of his own. Perhaps this was what he needed right at this moment: To be handled. When Renard wrapped his mouth around that hard flesh, the first taste was something of a shock, sharp and salty and instantly addictive. He knew better than to try and fit the whole thing into his mouth – he hadn't done anything like this in a long time. Instead, he wrapped his hand around the shaft and worked the tip with his lips and tongue.

“God, Sean!”

Nick was clearly struggling to keep still and failing miserably. His hips kept twitching forward, stomach trembling with strain where Renard was pinning him with his free arm.

It didn't take long. After a little while, Renard eased the pressure, let Nick thrust into his mouth. He did his best to time his own movements accordingly, to draw enough breath through his nose and, damn it, he used to be good at this.

“Sean!”

A warning this time, but he didn't pull away. Nick came seconds later, harsh, drawn-out moans accompanied by spurts of tangy liquid. When Renard got up, he briefly pressed forward, head dropping against the other man's shoulder. He was breathing hard, trying to catch his breath even as he felt soft lips brush against his neck.

“Where's the bedroom?”

As soon as he was able to move, Renard led the way upstairs, hiding a smile at Nick's furtive glances. The bedroom itself was spacious, airy, all huge windows and hardwood floor.

“Nice place.”

Renard turned, deliberately letting his eyes travel up and down Nick's body.

“I like the view.”

That got him a grin. Nick pulled his T-shirt over his head, kicking off his shoes and socks. His jeans were still half-off, riding low on his hips as he stepped closer.

“I want to see you.”

Renard could feel Nick's eyes on him as he shrugged out of his shirt. He knew what he looked like, worked out regularly to stay in shape, but all the same the attention was gratifying. When he was fully naked, those blue eyes were wide. Then, with quick, impatient motions, Nick took off his own jeans. They moved almost at the same time, eager to touch, to explore.

Just how they ended up on the bed, Renard couldn't have said, but Nick's hands were all over him, clutching, coaxing. It would have been enough to drive anyone frantic: that strong body arching into his, skin against skin, greedy mouth against his neck, his shoulder, sucking, _biting._ Instinct taking over, Renard pressed between Nick's legs. He needed contact, friction, except- Renard made himself pull back. He didn't like what he saw in Nick's eyes. There was lust there, yes, but also something desperate, brittle.

“Have you done this before?”

“I- yes. Not recently. It's all right, though. Just fuck me, Sean. It doesn't matter if it hurts.“

No.

„No. I'm not your punishment, Nick. If we're going to do this, we'll do it right.“

Gritting his teeth, Renard pushed himself up. He motioned for Nick to turn over, onto his stomach, ignoring his obvious confusion. While it was a bit late to stop, he would at least make sure he controlled the situation. Renard trailed his fingers down Nick's spine, brought his mouth close to his ear.

“I don't want to hurt you, Nick. So I'm going to make very, very sure you are enjoying yourself every step along the way. Nothing is going to happen tonight, unless I'm convinced that you really want it.”

It was difficult to be certain, but Renard thought he felt the body beneath his relax a bit. His lips brushed Nick's ear, his nape, then followed the path his fingers had taken. As he reached the dip between the shoulder blades, he tasted salt. He mouthed at the knobs of Nick's spine only to pull back and blow cool air against the damp skin. At the small of his back, Renard paused briefly, hands kneading that firm ass.

“Well, if you've done this before, you know just how good it can feel.”

Nick's breath hitched as he was spread open, bared completely to Renard's questing mouth. The first touch of his tongue got him a full-body shiver. Renard took his time teasing that tight ring of muscle, lazy swirls of tongue followed by a tiniest dip inside. When he finally did lick deeper, Nick gave a low, choked moan. The noise came again a second later – and again and again. Renard didn't stop until he had Nick moaning continuously, body trembling, very obviously enjoying himself.

„Onto your back.“

Lube was in the nightstand and, after retrieving it, Renard took a moment to savour the sight in front of him. Nick's face was flushed, slack with pleasure, all traces of bitterness gone. His lips had been bitten pink and tasted even sweeter than before. Instantly Nick's arms came around his neck, body arching up to meet Renard's.

„Please. Please, Sean, that was- I _want_ you!“

The temptation was almost overwhelming, but he could wait a little longer. Renard spread Nick open once more, placed a pillow under his hips.

„Soon enough. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait.“

The lube was cool on his fingers, but warmed quickly as he pressed against Nick's hole. The first slide in was smooth, startlingly easy, strong muscles gripping him like they were trying to suck him in. Imagining that feeling around his cock Renard had to briefly close his eyes. Perhaps he ought to speed things up a little, after all. Some minutes later he had three fingers buried to the hilt, angling and curling until Nick suddenly reared up. It was easy to forget just how strong a Grimm was, how quick. From one second to the next, Renard's wrist was caught in a vice-like grip.

„You have made your point. Now stop driving me insane and get on with it.“

Nick's grip shifted, thumb grazing Renard's pulse point, circling, caressing.

„What about you, Sean? You must be pretty much going crazy yourself. You didn't even get to come earlier. It'll be so good to get inside of me, so tight. Have you thought a lot about fucking me? About fucking a Grimm? The best thing about it is that you can just let go...“

It was all he could do to take slow, careful breaths and count to ten. Had he really thought he'd be able to control Nick? Once he was sure he wouldn't lose it right away, Renard rolled on a condom and hurriedly slicked himself. Nick's body molded itself against his as he slid into position, a decidedly smug look in those blue eyes. That changed, however, at the first press forward. Renard knew that he had to watch, to make this last, because in all probability nothing like it would ever happen again. He tried to memorize everything: Those pretty lips forming an 'oh' of surprise, breath hissing out from between them. Nick's eyes opening wide, unfocused, pupils dilating. The feeling of that strong body beneath his, trembling, caught between squirming away and pushing back against him. It  _was_ tight _,_ felt like he barely fit and there was still an inch or so left to go. Renard was gratified to find he was still capable of speech.

„You all right?“

Nick just nodded, clearly struggling to adjust. Having regained some measure of calm, Renard remembered his original intention. He shifted forward, felt the shiver that ran through Nick's body.

„What does it feel like, Nick? To have my cock shived up your ass... This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be taken, fucked until there's no thought left in your mind. But first you have to tell me.“

Nick met his eyes, met the challenge.

„Feels … full. Deep. So thick. Too much and not enough all at once. I want you, Sean.“

Good enough. Renard looked down to where Nick's hole was stretched tight around his shaft, traced the taunt skin, revelling in the rush of power. He wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

„Touch yourself.“

Instantly, shamelessly, Nick's hand flew to his own sex. Eyes holding Renard's, he pumped himself once. And just like that all control shattered. With a growl, Renard let his hips snap forward and finally, blessedly buried himself to the hilt. What followed was a haze of fucking, bodies moving together, learning each other's rhythm, strength meeting strength and, God, had there every been anything else in the world? In the end Nick screamed, eyes going Grimm-black as Renard was overwhelmed by the pleasure rushing through him.

They collapsed next to each other and for a long time, neither man moved. It was Renard who stirred first, forcing his tired body up. He dumped the condom and fetched a wet towel from the bathroom, wondering whether he ought to stay away a bit, give Nick the opportunity to disappear without any fuss or feeble excuses. Clean up first, though. After taking care of himself, Renard sat down on the edge of the bed. He gently ran the towel over Nick's chest and stomach, then further down between his legs. Nick's hole was still sticky, smeared with lube and it was still difficult to progress that this was really happening. Renard ran the cloth over that tender skin, eliciting a moan. He placed a gentle hand onto Nick's shoulder.

„Sh. We're all done.“

For some reason this felt more intimate than anything they had done so far. Nick was looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes, face young and drowsy, softer than it had seemed in a long time. Did his friends know just how close to the breaking point he was? Did anyone, really? Even though this was his own house, his own bed, Renard suddenly felt like an intruder. He placed the wet towel onto the nightstand and gently pulled up the sheet and comforter, covering Nick. When he would have gotten up, however, a strong hand gripped his wrist.

„Where are you going?“

It seemed that he was welcome, after all. When Renard lay down, Nick instantly shifted, curling against him. For a long while they lay like that, skin against skin, silent. When Renard had first learned about a Grimm in Portland he had never expected any of this – least of all the sudden rush of protectiveness he felt at the sight of that dark head against his shoulder. Eventually Nick stirred, lifting his head with a weary sigh.

„I really should get going. There's Kelly and Adalind doesn't sleep well when I'm not around.“

Renard just tightened his hold.

„She'll be fine for one night and so will Kelly. It's time you start taking care of yourself, Nick. If you don't get some rest at some point, you won't be doing anyone any good. Look, I know we're having trust issues, but I hope you know that you are safe here.“

Nick's lips quirked, a sudden spark of humor in those blue eyes.

„You'll kill whatever comes through that door?“

Although he didn't quite get the joke, Renard nodded.

„Gun's in the nightstand.“

There was also one taped beneath the dresser and an emergency bag with assorted other equipment in the back of the closet, but Nick didn't need to know  _everything._ Not waiting for any further arguments, Renard switched off the light. It took a few moments to find a position both men were comfortable with. Finally Nick came to lie on his stomach, one arm flung over Renard's chest. To all appearances he slept, deeply, peacefully.

The End


End file.
